


in which fili knocks back a cold one

by faorism



Series: loose leaf and a bud [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, keeping this up as a record that yeah i wrote this but i wouldnt now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faorism/pseuds/faorism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a hot day, and Fili asks something of Kili.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in which fili knocks back a cold one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calciseptine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calciseptine/gifts).



> this takes place sometime years into kili and fili’s relationship so instead of drama and angst, you get very domestic, very sloppy blowjobs. this was written for the my dearest [calciseptine](http://calciseptine.tumblr.com/) for her birthday, and to fill [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=1227206#t1227206) on the kink meme. kisses to my editor, [phantasmik](http://phantasmik.tumblr.com/).

Three flights up and another four to go, Fili shrugs off his sweat-drenched button-up and pushes himself to keep climbing the stairs of his apartment complex. 

Any other day, Fili would not begrudge the elevator for being out for the second time in three months with no repair in sight; he usually welcomes the exercise after an eight hour shift doing much of nothing until he can punch out for the day. But the temperature is uncomfortably high, even without considering the humidity which starves Fili's poor lungs as it sucks the oxygen out of the barely circulating air of the narrow staircase. The seven flights feel like death, and he distractedly wonders how the little old lady in 6E is doing (he'll make Kili check up on her later). 

If he were his brother, he would sit down on whatever step connects with his ass first and wait the exhaustion out, playing it off as if it was his usual perch. Fili, as the lesser drama queen of the two, stuffs his shirt into his back pocket, pulls the hem of his tank out from where it’s tucked into his pants, and soldiers the final four flights, all the while tasting the salt of the sweat caught in his mustache. 

Seeing the 7B on his door never felt as good as this moment, and he makes a beeline for the couch the second he enters his apartment. 

The TV's on (Kili's home). It's a commercial break, but judging by the time, Fili knows it's either Pawn Stars or Cake Boss. Neither bothers him much so he doesn't reach out for the remote. 

He feels grimy sitting there, but with no AC and only a medium-sized fan that he and Kili drag around when they change rooms, Fili knows the waste of taking a shower now. At least the fan is already on and aimed at the couch so the air is cooled down. 

Fili hears a flush from the bathroom tucked off to the side of their hallway/living room/kitchen (everything about their one-bedroom is compact, functional, and no more or less than either man needs). Kili walks out, wiping his hands on his jeans, fly still open. He has his hair tied up into a messy ponytail and doesn't have a shirt on, so Fili gets a nice view of Kili's chest as it flexes with surprise. 

"Didn't hear you come in!" Kili walks over to Fili but seeing something in Fili's expression, he cuts a detour to the kitchen area. Fili leans his head against the top of the couch and closes his eyes, willing away the flush burning his skin the best he can. 

"Nothing fancy, man. Just a beer," Fili answers before Kili has a chance to ask, the ritual of one fetching the other a drink too hardwired into his mind to ignore. 

Not even a minute passes before the couch dips from Kili's weight. Fili nearly flinches as Kili slides the wondrously cold bottle into his hand, the chill such a small unexpected delight. He swings it to his mouth and chugs half of it down in one go, a habit he's been trying to break Kili of but right now he could care less about being a hypocrite. He huffs and presses the cold bottle against his temple. 

"Bad day?" 

"Just a long one." 

"Guys, if you don't get your damn act together I'm kicking you to sales for a month!" The voice of Buddy Valastro cuts between the beat of their conversation; Cake Boss, then. 

Kili laughs at whatever he sees, his attention drawn away from Fili. Still, Kili's hand snakes down Fili's side, awkwardly coming to rest at the juncture between hip and thigh—a signal of camaraderie of a fellow minimum wager. Like many things Kili does for him, it both is and isn't what Fili needs. Kili's touch always strikes a cord of calm and wholeness, but the pressure of his brother's palm against his pants won't cut it right now. 

"Hey, do me a favor?" Fili lazily glances beside him through half-lidded eyes, feeling more than seeing Kili shifting to stand; presumably to get another beer. "Blow me?" 

Kili belts out a sudden roar of laughter that echoes deep and sweet and kind within the trunk of Fili's chest. They are both easy to laugh—always have been, always will be—but Fili cannot help but treasure how the sudden perversion of their proximity makes Kili scratch at the straggly mess of stubble he calls facial hair with flirty embarrassment. 

"You're a brute motherfucker, you know that?" Kili accuses like it's something they both don't already know. Like Kili doesn't want to. Like Kili isn't the kind of guy who’d suck Fili off simply because he asked, or like they aren't in the relationship they've been at for years, where sex has become something as effortless as fetching a beer or acting as wing men when they want someone else for the night. 

Fili only moves the bottle to cool his other temple as Kili drops off the couch and onto his knees. He looks ridiculous as he shuffles over to rest between Fili's feet, but the sight of him there eases Fili more than the fan and the beer combined. 

"I work hard too, you know," Kili grumbles even as his fingers trace the seam of Fili's jeans along his inner thigh, pressing long and hard every few words. "Inventory ain't going to take itself. How about if I wanted to burst right in, take my throne, and declare to my subjects—I have many, you know—declare 'Ye all that enter my lair of man-cave supreme shall swalloweth the royal anaconda. Tasteth pleasureth in the spunk of Kili the Magnificent.'" 

Rolling his eyes at the weak joke, Fili nudges Kili with his foot. "Don't make a production out of this." 

Kili kisses Fili's knee. "Want quick and easy? Should have said so in the first place!" Without any finesse or warning, Kili reaches out and grabs Fili's dick, groaning with what he finds. "Oh _come_ on. You're not even hard?!" 

Fili shrugs and takes a sip of his beer for an answer. It says less about Kili’s mood and more about Fili's (or at least, what Kili reads on Fili) that Kili does not protest any further; he just unzips Fili and pulls him out, not completely limp but limp enough that Kili will actually have to do some work for once. A lot of work, actually: it's muggy and not really the time for sex, especially since Fili knows every inch of him probably tastes funky right now—but Kili takes it all in stride, hot tongue lapping Fili's zip, to the V of where his pants meet skin, to the triangle of where his balls are trapped in his jeans. He teases the entire length of his cock with licks, sucks and the slight slopping of spit, the latter of which is used to wet skin without having to get up for lube more than it is to be sexy. 

It can be a long process, one that Fili loves but knows he cannot sit for with only a third of his beer left and the rest of the pack still in the fridge. Taking pity on them both, Fili finds the remote and, instead of turning the TV off, he lowers the volume until he can barely hear it and presses RECALL. Unsurprisingly, the screen flips to nudity: there's two women on a bed, and the current shot is a close-up of the blond one tonguing the redhead's clit, fingers sliding in and out of the redhead in quick bursts of action. They are both hot and they moan often and scream _oh my oh my God please please I want your hand yes harder_ prettily. 

Despite wanting to see a dude somewhere in there, Fili is too lazy to look up at the four other porn channels that came with their dubiously-legit cable package, and this one works just fine. He isn't planning on paying much attention to it; porn sets the mood for him like Barry White or candlelight does for other folks, and Kili knows and appreciates this about him. 

And Kili obviously approves of the addition of porn (or at least, the subtraction of reality TV) by the way he rushes to spit into his palm before wrapping the base of Fili's cock with his hand. Kili pumps softly but with purpose, determined. He leans forward into Fili's lap, getting into an awkward position that allows Kili to suck at a good angle without Fili needing to slouch. Fili thinks he should shift, but Kili's powerful back muscles stretch and ebb with the strain of the pose. He’s gorgeous. Fili unthinkingly downs the rest of his beer and tucks it somewhere beside him just so that he can run both hands over that frame. 

(The blond has found a slim vibrator, shoving it inside the redhead alongside her fingers. The sound of the redhead's near continuous moaning drives a jolt down Fili's spine, erection filling as he hears the hitching breaths of the girls between Kili panting.) 

Even if Fili was having an off moment before, a shiver rides through his body at the awe that breaks Kili's face as he tempers a growing erection in his hand and between his lips. It's as if he's surprised he can do this, surprised that he has this power over Fili even though he's brought Fili to orgasm countless times already. At the realization that such naivety still survives in his brother, Fili clenches his fingers against Kili’s shoulderblade as a deep moan barrels out of his mouth. 

"Good?" 

There's porn in the background, but that one line is the dirtiest thing Fili has ever heard (since the last time they had sex). Kili rings the very tip of Fili's cock with his mouth but goes no farther, waiting for instructions he knows Fili will give. 

"Always." Fili cannot swallow the surge of affection in his voice (never needs to anyway; not anymore). 

It's enough of a response for Kili. Jerking his hand still around Fili, he takes Fili's head past his lips and _sucks_ —painfully hard in a way meant to startle Fili into a frenzy of sensation. Before Fili has a chance to thrash, Kili pulls back and giggles—actually giggles, the little shit—and presses an only semi-apologetic kiss along the vein under Fili's finally hard, flushed cock. 

"I deserved that one, didn't I?" Fili wheezes, reeling from shock. 

"Yup." 

Kili goes back to Fili's dick but this time he takes it in earnest. Kili's mouth is an unbearable warmth that Fili immediately thrusts into; Kili, preparing for Fili's impatience, only narrowly prevents himself from choking by holding his tongue flat, relaxed and still. Kili's messy, uncoordinated in a way that endears Fili more than it displeases him, and Kili forgets to breathe half the time; greedily sucking air through his nose as he groans around Kili. 

Lazy, sloppy, hot, and drained, Kili blows Fili like he can keep this up all day, but as he suggested, this was meant to be a quick and easy fuck. Fili feels a soft pleasure in the pit of his stomach, dampened by the heat but enough that the boredom of his work shift has mellowed out of him. Content, Fili bucks into Kili, mutters a _suck it up_ , and thrills at how Kili's lips stretch around him. "Your mouth," Fili hisses as he lays a hand on Kili's head. He threads his fingers through the half-wavy, half-straight mass, and he yanks as he feels the sharp edge of his orgasm approaching. 

As Kili finishes him off, he sits back, staring at the ceiling as the porn changes scenes (there's the two girls still, but a man sits between them). It was a concerted effort to get him here, but now he's groaning and whimpering and he can barely sit still, sweat lining his elbow and brow. His entire life narrows to two single points: his hand in Kili's hair and his dick, bobbing in and out of Kili's lips; and he comes like that, anonymous save for where Kili identifies him with his touch. 

Kili swallows without prompting, pulling the strains of Fili's orgasm, extending it as long as he can. When there's nothing left, when Fili is pliant, slouching, and tired, Kili slides back—there's a wet pop as Fili's cock leaves his mouth—and rests his cheek against Fili's knee. 

Though out of his mind with the peace of post-coital bliss, Fili pats Kili's head and offers, "Need anything?" 

"Nah." Kili sighs and absently rubs his face again Fili's jeans. "I pulled one out an hour ago. I'm good right here, though." 

Fili nods, thankful that he doesn't have to move. He turns off the porn, sits back—dick covered in spit and come; Kili didn't even tuck it in—and lets the fan blow in his face. He thinks of how fucking great it'll be when he finally takes his shower and how refreshing the cold water will be as it runs streams down his back; but that'll wait until later. At least for a little while, he can sit here, with Kili under his hand and the taste of beer long settled on his tongue.


End file.
